


a welcoming bit of prey

by Marquise



Category: Rope (1948)
Genre: I just want them to get away with it!, M/M, post murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/pseuds/Marquise
Summary: Philip isn’t sleeping these days.
Relationships: Phillip Morgan/Brandon Shaw
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	a welcoming bit of prey

“Do these dark circles under my eyes say nothing to you about how I’m doing?” Philip grimaced as the liquor hit the back of his throat, the burn a welcome relief from the nothingness that he had fought his way through in the days since the murder. He caught Brandon eyeing the glass, surely noting the fact that it was well past one too many, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The euphoria that had followed in the immediate wake of David’s death -- the constant fucking, the drunken high, the excited plans for Europe -- had faded leaving him with this hollow emptiness that now kept him up all night, watching as Brandon slept peacefully on, wondering how he managed. 

“Forgive me for showing concern,” Brandon raised the cigarette to his lips and Philip repressed the need to point out how much he was smoking these days, that his visits to the tobacconist were turning into twice-daily occurrences. He bit his tongue, however, not wishing a repeat from the nearly knock-out fight they had had two nights before, despite the pleasantly painful conclusion it had come to. 

Philip took a final gulp of his drink and sat it on the table with a clank, moving to the couch as Brandon grabbed the glass from the polished wood and moved it to the sink. That he could still be so concerned about water spots brought a bitter smile to Philip’s lips. Perhaps he would never truly change.

When he returned he had somehow managed to light another cigarette. He regarded Philip across the distance of the large room, as if he were examining a subject in a scientific study. The air between them stilled, cooled, and Philip in that moment could not manage to think of spending weeks with this man in Europe. Time alone with the man he had now linked himself to for life, no matter what happened. 

But then Brandon moved, that long and lithe gait that had first caught Philip’s eye all those years ago, in school, when he could not have begun to imagine the course his life would take or even that he would soon enough find himself in bed without another man (though the fitness magazines he had kept hidden under his mattress would have begged to differ). Philip kept his gaze on that body, his thoughts in the past, when Brandon settled in beside him, forcing a magically appearing water glass into his hand. 

“Perhaps I can find something to help you sleep,” Brandon muttered, his lips near his neck, his hand moving soothingly through his hair. Philip could not deny the reaction this had on him, the chill of anticipation that ran through him, the comfort of just being able to smell him. 

“I can still feel his heartbeat,” he muttered into the air, talking as much to himself as to Brandon. His mouth suddenly grew dry as he knew what he was going to say next, what was going spill forth against his will. The water did help the rasp in his voice. “I think I liked it.” 

Brandon’s hand stilled there and if Philip was not mistaken so did his breath. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him, though he was curious what reaction played in those cool eyes. He gripped his water glass, thankful for the anchor. 

Then he was caught by surprise for Brandon pushed him back and his mouth was on Philip’s, teeth biting, the arousal sudden and objectively sickening given the circumstances. 

Philip couldn’t bring himself to care about that, not when Brandon was kissing him like this, not when he was wrapping his long limbs around him, devouring him. He had always been a welcoming bit of prey. The glass fell to the floor, forgotten, and in his tired state he still managed to rally enough to bite his lover’s neck, anger and lust coiled into one. Brandon laughed breathlessly, reared up, and looked at him with a sharp gaze that near enough pinned him to the cushions. 

“Perhaps we can work on wearing you out first?” His voice was as sharp as the last bit of Philip’s liquor. 

Maybe that was why he needed him so badly. 


End file.
